Where the deuce have you been prowling, that so late you come a howling,
Keeping up this nasty growling, growling at my chamber-door?
I was hardly sure I heard you.” Here I open flung the door,—
Darkness there, and nothing more!
Back into my chamber turning, where my lamp was dimly burning,
Soon again I heard a growling, something louder than before.
“Surely,” said I, “surely, that is something stirring at my lattice,
Let me see if ghost or cat ’tis, and this mystery explore.
Pooh! I have it, what a duffer, what a booby, to be sure!
’Tis the wind, and nothing more!”